


Ink Love

by Nitchen



Series: Love [1]
Category: Kuroshitsuji : The Most Beautiful DEATH in the World - Iwasaki/Mori/Mari, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Alan is a spoonie uwu, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Canon Disabled Character, Cute, Cute Ending, Disability, Eric is a rockstar, Falling In Love, Fluff, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, M/M, Sickfic, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24820552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitchen/pseuds/Nitchen
Summary: The life of the young florist, Alan Humphries, is not the best. He has many limitations in his life due to his rare illness and is dependent on constant help, left alone by his parents and accompanied by his best friend, Grell Sutcliff, he decides to go to a tattoo studio and get a memory, which means a lot to him. A tattoo that also has something to do with his love of flowers, it should be. But at the appointment in the tattoo studio, his heart suddenly no longer beats for the flowers, but for the tattooist Eric.Alternative UniverseAlan / Eric
Relationships: Alan Humphries/Eric Slingby
Series: Love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086020
Comments: 9
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter 1

"And you are really sure that you want Alan?" the voice of the red-haired trans woman entered the ear of the man who was in a wheelchair in front of her. To do this, she bent down a little while walking and held her face next to the brown-haired one.  
  
He turned his head back and looked into the green eyes of his best friend. Her gaze was a little worried, because what he was going to do as a smaller man would be permanent and never go away.  
  
"Sure Grell!" the man returned and grinned slightly, then pushed his wheelchair himself and looked around while Grell walked next to him.  
  
"A tattoo is there forever Al..did you really think about it?"  
  
Then there was a giggle. The brown-haired grinned broadly, then said to his best friend that he had been doing it for years and now that he had weathered the worst.  
  
What the man meant was that he had fought twenty-three years of his life. He had been to hospitals frequently since childhood, had a rare disease called _ Ehlers Danlos Syndrome_, in short EDS. It was a congenital disorder of the connective tissue, which is mainly characterized by an overextensibility of the skin and by moving joints. But it also affects vessels, muscles, ligaments, tendons and internal organs.  
  
Alan had been hit hard. His digestive system and heart were also affected. Not a week passed without the ambulance outside the door and picking it up again.  
  
Annoying, but also sad was the thought that he had to spend his whole life because his illness would get worse, soon he would not even be able to get up alone, his joints often dislocated and it was sometimes really painful. Sometimes he went to Grell with tears in his eyes to help him to put them back into place, but sometimes it was so bad that even she couldn't get it back in place. His roommate was simply the best, they had known each other for ten years and were inseparable, not only because they had both helped themselves out of a depressive period, but also because they both accepted each other as they were.  
  
Because what you almost didn't see at the red-haired is that she was once a man. She was a transgender, born in a man's body, but Grell had known when she was very young that her gender was wrong, that she didn't feel right.  
  
It wasn't until she was seventeen that she came out in front of her parents — the end result was that she ended up in a psychiatric ward for six months. She had gone through hell there, was bullied and beaten up by the others. She was sent to the emergency room a few times because the wounds the others had inflicted on her had to be stitched up.  
  
She had already put the razor blade on her arm a few times, but the pain was too strong and when her parents found out that she was cutting herself, she became angry. After all, this was not part of the behaviour of a young 'man' who would eventually make a lot of money and start a family with a beautiful woman.  
  
After the psychiatric treatment, she moved to her best friend, whom she had called whenever she could. The two had known each other since kindergarten, and they had been inseparable there.  
  
Alan was the first person to speak to Grell with her preferred pronouns. No matter if the others took the wrong ones, now she looked like a woman and everyone recognized her as that too.  
  
Alan's disabilities and the fact that he was slower and a little weaker than others had immediately understood her and helped him with everything. Whether it was support, if walking was difficult, or simple homework that he hadn't been able to do. You only found a best friend like Alan once, no matter how difficult the problem, together they always found a way out.  
  
When Grell picked him up from work he was always very pleased — the flat block where they lived had no elevator, so Grell had to carry him up the stairs. They lived on the first floor, but it had become a matter of course for them.  
  
Whenever he was in the hospital, she was with him. And even when she got her Breast Implant Surgery, Alan was always by her side.  
  
For some it sounded as if the two were a couple, but Alan was an outgoing gay and Grell bisexual, but the brown-haired florist was not her type anyway and the redhead preferred to stay single rather than be drawn into a hopeless love. Her heart had been broken too often, she had been cheated and lied to. She had her cat, and that was all the redhead needed.  
  
The two best friends who lived together had three cats, a British shorthair named Cherie, a Turkish Angora named Aika and a street cat, whose breed was unknown and which bore the name 'Rose'.  
  
They were both big cat fans and simply loved the room tigers. Cherie was the oldest of the cats, she was Alan's everything and something like his therapy cat, because whenever the brown-haired felt pain, she sat on his lap and cuddled with him, wanted to help him during the pain and him distract.  
  
In the tenth grade, the man had received the cat from his parents, who live in Ireland now. At that time they were still resident in England and then when his grandparents passed away and his mother inherited a house, they just moved.  
  
They had accepted his sexuality, but his disability both of them only accept it a bit, his dear father had once called Alan himself a cripple and after that day they had had no contact with each other. It was known for 20 years that he had some disabilities, and then he came and insulted him just because his body was not functioning the way he wanted it to?  
  
"Well, you somehow earned it." Grell finally admitted and looked down at her best friend, who turned slightly red. It was an allusion to how much stronger he was compared to people without disabilities. He took on pain every day that accompanied him from morning to night.  
  
"Oh Grell, stop..." he rolled on and stayed at a traffic light. He had made an appointment with a very well-known and above all good tattoo artist in the City of London. Although it cost a little more, Alan had paired something and had a tattoo done as well on his bucket list.  
  
Just like having your own flower shop and writing a book about your favourite subject, which surprisingly was also a flower. They had plants and flowers everywhere in the apartment and on the balcony, the brown-haired liked to take care of them.  
  
Sometimes he would just sit on the balcony with an old sofa that they had bought at the flea market and read a book. He loved fantasy novels, but also romances, and since Grell worked in a library and brought him books sometimes, it was just wonderful. She often took him with him, and then he always chose books.  
  
The red-haired woman was a very poetic person, she loved Shakespeare and Goethe as well as other poets, but she also liked modern literature and romantic works, even books that featured transgender characters, she thought was great. But she didn't want to write a book, found her own writing style hideous, but liked the short stories and works Alan wrote in his spare time.  
  
The man with the narrow, cute face and the small snub nose had been through a lot of shit in his life, he had literally gone through hell, was bullied heavily and his teachers wanted to see him thrown in and out of school now and then, but he did fight through, had a smooth 1.0 as a graduation certificate and had quickly received an education as a florist, Grell was no different, but she had received a 1.2 on the school certificate of her last year.  
  
She was more of a person who had constantly neglected her homework and was reading instead. That was one of the reasons why she started working in a library. She loved her work, just like Alan loved his, he didn't give the two a better job.  
  
"It's true...you've been through so much, and this flower also fits your past..." Grell muttered to him at last.  
  
"Grell, first: it is heather and second: not only about my past, but probably also about my future. I will never find a friend...you are young, beautiful and slim.."  
  
"You are almost a skeleton Alan, you know! " the red-haired woman interrupted him somewhat angrily, didn't like it when the brown-haired florist cut himself down by telling her how beautiful Grell himself was.  
  
Because even Grell didn't find himself beautiful, after all, she was still not a 'real woman'. Still had a penis and she found that disgusting. She had got breasts implants last year, hormone therapy worked, her body became a little more feminine, but she also wanted to go to the swimming pool with Alan without having to tap anything without having to see her cock.  
  
"You have a beautiful body Grelle, always remember, at some point you will find a strong, sweet man who loves you as you are." the man pushed his chair on and looked at the redhead gently, then they were there and Alan wrinkled his nose from a few meters away .  
  
Because in front of the tattoo studio, leaning against the glass of the shop, there was a man smoking a cigarette. The blonde was wearing a black leather jacket, and Alan had to admit, in the cold and rainy late summer weather, his outfit looked wonderful on him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alans Tattoo: https://www.pinterest.de/pin/658581145489126410/
> 
> Erics Tattoo: https://www.pinterest.de/pin/841610249094811199/

Grell went behind Alan again to push him and grimaced slightly. "Could you please turn the butt off?" She asked and looked at the man with the cornrows, on the side where his hair was braided they were brown and on the other hand it was blond, he looked like he was training and Alan saw him in the eyes.  
  
These were covered with purple-colored glasses, but he could see that he had green eyes, watching the brown-haired ones.  
  
"Then go ahead if ye dinnae lik' th' smell." Eric said, looking at Grell, held the butt between his middle and forefinger. He had a Scottish accent that Alan found very interesting, to be honest.  
  
"My best friend has an appointment here today." she just said a bit angry.  
  
The man looked down in astonishment at Alan, who looked at him, blushed, as he said hello.  
  
Eric immediately realized that inhaling the smoke could harm the brown-haired one and quickly stubbed out the cigarette, then put it in the ashtray that was always on the windowsill outside.  
  
"Och, a'm sorry, ah didnae knew that." He immediately apologized and then smiled softly at Alan before entering the store. But there was a big step and Alan couldn't just go ahead. And Grell was not strong enough to lift him and his wheelchair up.  
  
Eric just went back out and lifted him up in his wheelchair. Alan opened his eyes and clawed at the armrests, but when the blonde let him down he relaxed immediately.  
  
"Thank you...Mr.." he looked at him while Grell walked behind him and looked around.  
  
"Slingby, but please ca' me eric ." he said gently and held out his hand, which Alan took carefully and shook it briefly. "Whit's yer name? And what's th' stoatin' wifie ye brought 'ere?" he asked him, Grell blushed slightly and was pleased that he too recognized her as a woman.  
  
"I am Alan and this is my best friend, Grell. She comes along as support to see it .." he laughed gently and also a little nervously.  
  
A nod came from the taller man, he ran the tattoo studio called _' Scotsrock'_ on his own - the owner was Scottish and proud of his origins, he also liked rock music, and sometimes wore a kilt. But today he was standing there with black jeans. He took off his jacket and hung it on the coat-hook, then showed himself as a gentleman and also helped Grell to take off her jacket. Then Alan's too, but he didn't know that the brown-haired man had a disease that also affected his joints, and he accidentally dislocated his shoulder. The brown-haired grimaced and looked at Grell for help.  
  
"Shoulder..." he just murmured.  
  
The woman nodded and carefully lifted his arm, put a hand on his shoulder and brought it in place, while Eric did not notice, checked the schedule.  
  
"Thank you.." Alan whispered and smiled softly, then Grell carefully pushed him to the waiting area and sat on a chair.  
  
"Grell?" he asked her and looked at the woman with the red, long hair that she had tied in a ponytail. They went up to her buttocks when they were open.  
  
"He's your type, I know.." she said in his ear, making Al even redder than he was.  
  
"But that won't work..." he said only with a sigh. "Look at me, I'm a cripple-"  
  
Grell closed his mouth with one hand and only shook his head with a sigh. Didn't like this word at all, not only because Alans and her classmates had previously said it to the flower lover, but also because the brown-haired man liked to insult himself and 'cripple' was a difficult, insulting word.  
  
"What did we say about that word, Alan?" he asked gently, looking at him warningly.  
  
"I didn't say it. Besides, it's true!" he returned and crossed his arms angrily, leaning back in the wheelchair.  
  
Grell sighed softly. "Maybe you have chances."  
  
"In the dream I have chances in real life...forget it...", he said and apologized to Grell again two minutes later, didn't like arguing.  
  
"No problem Al.." Grell whispered and looked at the counter. Eric looked at the brown-haired florist with a smile and went to the sitting area. Only now did Alan see the arms of the young man, whom he estimated to be twenty-five. They were tattooed, from the back of the hand to the shoulder. On his strong arm, which was also a bit muscular and handsome, he saw a very nicely pierced skull, with some roses depicted above and below it. Alan also recognized thistles on his wrist, which was the national flower of Scotland. On the other arm he had a tribal tattoo, which probably went over his shoulder. There was a black cross on his neck, maybe he was Christian like Alan. He probably had some tattoos on his chest, but Alan couldn't tell what was shown on this one.  
  
But before he could even think about the tattoos the manager had, the blond Scotsman started talking.  
  
"Sae Alan, whit dae yer want fur a tattoo then? A lettering, an animal?" the man went to the two and sat down with a folder full of self-drawn motifs.  
  
"So, I wanted a small tattoo on my forearm, the motif should be heather, more precisely Erika flowers." Alan looked at him and then took out his cell phone, showing Eric some pictures of examples.  
  
"Okay, guid. This is yer first tattoo, isnae it?" he asked him.  
  
Alan nodded, he always wanted one, but he never thought of a right one. He had thought for a long time, and then he remembered what the heather stood for: Loneliness. And this represented his life only too well. Although he had Grell as best friend, it also meant a new beginning for him. Now he was no longer bullied, had great colleagues and a great best friend, cats..his life was slowly but surely becoming better.  
  
"Okay, ah will draw something fur ye.." he said and grinned, took a drawing pad and a piece of paper with a pen. Alan was not very talented artistically, could only deal with plants like Grell with books and poetry. The two looked at Eric's fine hand movements and waited anxiously.  
  
After ten minutes he put the pen down and showed his work to the two. Alan's eyes widened suddenly, as if he were in love with the drawing, which he was secretly, but didn't dare to say.  
  
Heather is evergreen, mostly compact dwarf shrubs, but some species also grow tree-like and can reach heights of 10 meters. The leaves are in whorls, less often opposite or scattered. The flowers are usually up to ten millimetres in size and have a double flower envelope with sepals, crown and stamens that protrude from the flower crown. The colour palette of the flowers ranges from white to pink and carmine to purple. Heather thrive best in sunny locations, but also tolerate partially shaded places. They mainly occur on sandy or stony soils and Eric, the blond Scotsman, got the beauty of the heather perfectly on the leaf.  
  
"So?" asked he. "Dae ye lik' that?" the Scotsman looked at the brown-haired man, who nodded excitedly.  
  
"That looks great! Thanks!" Alan said with a grin. Grell looked at him with a smile. Liked it when her best friend was happy because she was too.  
  
"Okay, dae ye hae tae take something Alan? Are ye taking pure tough medication lik' marcumar?" this was a blood thinner that Alan had to take every day and nodded.  
  
"Yes, but I have had heparin injections for the past six days, so now I can get the tattoo without any problems with my cardiologist, my EDS specialists, my family doctor...in general to all the doctors I have to see.." he blushed slightly while Eric nodded again.  
  
"Och wow, ye'v bin thro' a lot, richt? That's shitty..but ah hope ye'r feeling a bit better noo." Eric said only and looked at Grell, who nodded only briefly. Alan said nothing about it, rather reluctant to talk to strangers about his illnesses.  
  
After a few minutes of pure silence in the studio, Eric cleared his throat. "Ayee, then ah will finish th' stencil fur th' tattoo 'n' then mak' sure that everything is nicely sterile." he went to the back of the studio while Grell started giggling.  
  
"You're in love~" she almost purred his ear while Alan kept his mouth shut.  
  
"If you have a crush I annoy you with it all the time.." he grumbled, then swallowed when he noticed what he had just given. Crap..  
  
"Aaaah ~ you're in love !!in love, in love, in love ~ "  
  
The brown-haired man said nothing. "Please Grell don't.."  
  
She pressed her cheek against that of the brown-haired florist who looked at the floor, slightly ashamed to find a man hot that he hadn't known for an hour. And since the tattoo was a very small one, the session wouldn't last long either.  
  
"Okay, okay...are you asking him for the number?"  
  
Alan looked at his best friend in confusion. "Which number?"  
  
"Well his phone number! You will need it afterwards, right?" she grinned softly at him, the man shook his head and ran a hand over his face.  
  
"Grell..."  
  
"Oh come on Allie!" she said, the name 'Allie' was Alan's nickname, because he sometimes behaved like a girl, that would have come from being friends with Grell all your life. As children, they had always made each other up and played with dolls.  
  
"Don't call me that.." he said. "..Grelle.."  
  
"Come on, have some fun!" she looked at him with a broad smile, the brown-haired man only nodded with a sigh.  
  
"You're right..I hope it doesn't hurt a lot..you know how sensitive I am to pain..." he said quietly to her.  
  
A nod came from the transgender woman. She had seen him cringe and whimper in pain several times. Then she always gave him strong pain reliever or called an ambulance because she didn't have a car to drive him to the hospital. She wanted to get her driver's licence some day.  
  
After another ten minutes the rough, but also loving voice came from the back of the studio.  
  
"Alan, we kin git stairted! "


	3. Chapter 3

The brown-haired looked in the direction where Eric's voice came from and was looking forward as Grell got up and pushed the wheelchair of the brown-haired. Everywhere were pictures of tattoos and drawings by Eric, a certificate that said that the hygiene here was to 100% perfect, soothed the concerns of the brown-haired man, because he was nevertheless a very careful person who paid attention to a lot.  
  
"Okay..shall ah hulp ye?" the blonde with the cornrows looked at his brown-haired customer, but Grell only shook his head and Alan applied the brakes so that he didn't roll forward or backwards and stop. Grell helped the young florist while the tattoo artist looked a little helpless — he wanted to help Alan but was afraid that he would accidentally hurt him. Ultimately, he held him gently by the hip, luckily no joint dislocated this time.  
  
"Urr ye a' rights? Ah briefly disinfect yer skin 'n' then ah apply th' stencil stuff tae yer skin, which is important fur it tae wirk properly. Then ah pat th' tattoo stencil on yer skin 'n' let it dry briefly, then ah wipe it wi' a cloth sae that everything is crakin' 'n' dry. 'n' finally we kin stairt wi' th' actual tattoo." explained the owner of the tattoo studio.  
  
The florist nodded gently, watching the Scotsman carefully disinfect his skin with very stinky agents, which Alan knew well from the hospital, so the smell was nothing new, he didn't even wrinkle his nose, other than Grell who sat down on a chair and watched the two. "So now hold your arm loose, right?" Asked the tattooed man. The brown-haired nodded and did so..  
  
After disinfecting, the blonde put some stencil stuff on the skin, and then he put the right stencil on the skin of the sick man, who looked at him quietly smiling. Eric looked really focused as he pressed the paper onto Alan's skin. Grell grinned slightly.  
  
"It's kind of like a temporary gum wrapper tattoo, isn't it?" she murmured questioningly and looked at Eric, who had to nod a little amused.  
  
"Aye, ye'r somehow bonny right Grell." said the man gently and carefully removed the film. The brunette immediately looked at the heather that was depicted on his arm and grinned slightly. That looked fantastic!  
  
"Is th' motive good this wey?" asked the young man's harsh voice.  
  
"Yes...that looks really cool.." Alan looked briefly into the eyes of the bigger one, then looked at Grell. "How do you find Grell?"  
  
"The heather looks very chic...you're definitely a talented artist, aren't you?" she asked Eric who just had to grin slightly.  
  
"Ah stairted drawing earlie when ah wis a child...that insae a talent, it's practice. Ye kin an' a' learn tae draw, ye juist hae tae stay tuned."Eric grinned at the redhead, who nodded.  
  
"Okay, please don't move your arm so much from now on so that the lines don't blur. Okay Alan?" he said to the wheelchair user, and then they waited a few minutes for everything to dry properly. Then he took the device in his hand and inserted a thin needle into it. A click said it was properly seated.  
  
A nod came only from Alan, who looked and grinned on his arm, the stencil for the tattoo was very nice, he was a little excited, didn't know how badly it would hurt.  
  
"What can you draw, Eric?" Alan asked curiously and stayed quiet, wanting to start a conversation with the blond Scots, maybe to get to know him better.  
  
"Sae ah kin actually draw everything..i used tae draw picters o' th' hielands 'n' th' coos that mah fowk haes in bonnie scotland." The older man looked at Alan, then took a cloth and carefully wiped the stencil , so that everything was nice and dry. Then he sat on a chair and told Al to sit on the lounger and relax. The man then put on white rubber gloves and put a small blob of petroleum jelly on Alan's arm, which was on an armrest, so that everything would work without any problems.  
  
Then he grinned and took the device in his hand and shoved a thin needle into it. A click said it was properly seated.  
  
"We kin git stairted. Ah will tak' a very thin needle fur ye, it will only pinch something bit nae hurt gey muckle." explained the blonde.  
  
"Okay.." with his other hand, Alan took the hand of his best friend, who had made herself comfortable and held out hers, looked at her briefly. It's hard to believe that this moment is really happening.  
  
Because actually he shouldn't get a tattoo, at least according to his cardiologists, who would be angry about the heather on the arm of the brown-haired one, but Alan didn't care, surprisingly because he actually followed everything his doctors told him.  
  
When the needle noticed the skin of the brown-haired one, he winced briefly, but luckily only slightly. What Eric had said was true, it just tweaked something, was a really nice feeling, a new one. It was like he was getting an injection again and again, a very small one that didn't hurt so much.  
  
"Bearable?" Eric wanted to know, there was some concern in his voice.  
  
"Sure, everything's fine..it's like I keep getting a little string ..somehow it tickles too.." he replied  
  
Eric gave a short laugh and nodded, carefully holding the brown-haired skin and pricking the needle, which was always moving back and forth, into the other's skin. His eyes were very focused, but he started a conversation with Alan, which was just fine with them.  
  
"And..why urr ye in a wheelchair when ah kin ask?" the Scottish tattoo artist wanted to know from his customers.  
  
He closed his eyes and began to tell:  
  
"I have EDS, which is a congenital disorder in the connective tissue that is characterized by skin overstretching and over-moving joints. But it affects my muscles, tendons and internal organs.." he began to explain. "Walking hurts me a lot, that's why I have this wheelchair. At home, I walk through the flat with a cane..it's pathetic, I know.."  
  
A shake of the head was the only thing Eric uttered. He did not find it pitiful, Alan was strong with his illness, and not the opposite. "Yer nae pathetic fur ye hae this disease..you ur pure tough.." he said only calmly and gave him a short glance with a gentle look, then he continued to work on Alan's tattoo, which slowly looked more beautiful and took on colour. First he made the outline, very carefully, careful not to hurt the brown-haired.  
  
Eric himself had over 25 tattoos, got his first at eighteen, and then it got more and more. He had three tattoos that reminded him of his home. A thistle, the Scottish flag and highland cattle, he just loved these cattle. They were so fluffy and cute. He wanted to see his homeland again, but he didn't really know how he could do it with his work. After all, his studio was very popular and the schedule was full every day.  
  
"If you say so..." Alan mumbled quietly and looked briefly at Grell, who only nodded gently. In her opinion, Eric was right too.  
  
"How come exactly this tattoo?" the question asked by the blond Scotsman made Alan smile. Now he had to explain that too. And although he liked to talk to other people, Eric was just too handsome to lie to him and say that he just loved heather and wanted it tattooed on his arm. The rapid rattling of the needle, which shot back and forth, was easy to hear.  
  
"Erika stands for loneliness...but heather also means new beginnings fe me..my whole life was shit and at some point it has to improve, right? Besides, I love flowers and plants, I am a florist in a small flower shop in the city.." he explained with a smile. "Flowers and plants were always there for me...even when I was little I liked them very much...my grandma was a gardener, and she taught me a lot and passed on wisdom. After her death I decided to start my career.."  
  
"This is a pure crakin' reason tae got something stung lie that.." he said then and focused on his arm, moving the device with the needle.  
  
"How many tattoos do you have?" Alan wanted to know with a curious tone, which also sounded kind of sweet. The florist's voice was soft and calm, while Eric's was rather rough.  
  
"Weel mair than 25..i think at least... Ah stopped counting at some point.." he admitted with a smile.  
  
"Twenty-five?" Alan looked at him in astonishment and nodded in understanding. "Wow..but the tattoos suit you too .."  
  
"Thank yer.." Eric's face went barely noticeable. "Actually ah only wanted tae have three, bit in th' end ah juist fun it tae tempting..."  
  
"I can understand..only I think I won't get a second tattoo.." said the wheelchair user and looked briefly at the work on his skin, Eric worked fine and concentrated, although he looked strong and rough...how sweet..  
  
The tattoo artist looked at him understandingly and then continued to work, soon he would be ready. They talked about some topics like favourite animals and Eric told something about Scotland, his beloved home. That Alan was Irish didn't bother him, after all he didn't understand the hatred between Scotland and Ireland. He just wanted peace between the two countries.  
  
When the session was over, Eric disinfected the tattoo he had just stung. After two hours Alan had a beautiful tattoo, which Erika showed, on his left arm and was happy. He had made it without tears and pain, and he could be proud of that. The taller of the two men wiped the skin again with a cloth, very gently and carefully, then put a film on his arm.  
  
"Tak' it off efter twa tae three hours 'n' rinse aff th' tattoo wi' lukewarm water, then ah will give ye a cream that ye pat oan th' plook, okay? Then pat up a foil again...but disinfect yer hauns thoroughly beforehand." he gave him the instruction.  
  
Alan understood and looked at him gratefully. He had already paid in advance by bank transfer. Grell stretched and stood up while Alan got up carefully, but buckled. Fortunately, Eric stood in front of him, who immediately held the chronically ill man and then helped him into a wheelchair.  
  
The brown-haired florist was red in the face and thanked Eric who cautiously stroked Alan's shoulder as a sign that everything was okay, and he didn't have to worry that everything was good.  
  
The farewell was somehow difficult for Alan. He asked the blond man if he could hug him and of course the older Scotsman said yes, and then they hugged each other briefly and carefully. Alan looked at the black-clad man with a skull printed on his t-shirt, his style was fascinating. He was only now noticing the piercings he wore on his ears.  
  
Then he helped him out of the store because of the big step, and there was another customer at the door that Eric let in to the store.  
  
"Tak' care o' yersel', even if ye whiles cop wabbit, yer stronger than ye think Alan.." the tattooist explained and briefly stroked Alan's cheek, said goodbye quickly to Grell and then went back to the shop.  
  
The flower lover watched him go, with an open mouth, while Grell looked at him gently.  
  
That could be love..


	4. Chapter 4

Two weeks passed and the tattoo on Alan's skin was more beautiful than ever. Sometimes he just looked at it and thought of the young Scotsman who had stabbed him this. Another wouldn't have been able to do it so well, he always thought. Sometimes he even dreamed of Eric, had searched for him on Instagram and Facebook and followed him there.  
  
In love, no! He was not! But somehow he wanted to get in touch with Eric, get to know him better and maybe develop more than a friendship, although this was very, very unlikely. Eric's sexuality was bisexual, he had already found out, he was single, but had probably had a relationship, because on Instagram was a picture of himself and a red-haired man he kissed.  
  
And his name had to start with an 'R' because ''R <3'' was in the description of one of the pictures. The red-haired man with long hair in the picture looked a little sickly, Eric stroked in one picture what he had posted five years ago over the cheek of this 'R', just as he did with his thumb over the cheek of the brown-haired man. Careful, gentle.  
  
He also must have lived in Scotland with his red-haired ex-boyfriend, because there were pictures of the Highlands and how the two were posted by these walks, they were already six years old. Something bad had happened over the years, his ex-boyfriend passed away...maybe from an illness. Because there were also many pictures where it said in the description that he missed his friend and that he was now up there with the stars.  
  
That was very...sad...losing a person who was very close to you, Alan knew that, was a loss that you could never cope with sometimes. Alan had never been able to cope with the death of his granny, he still went to her grave every week and kept getting new flowers, making sure that everything looked nice and well-kept.  
  
But now he was at work and had to tie bouquets and wait for customers, he already had three today and, moreover, he was alone today because his boss and his colleague were not there. Alone he could keep a good grip on the shop and was big enough that the brown-haired man could roll into every corner with his wheelchair. The brown-haired was just tying a small bouquet of flowers, had an extra table in an extra room in the shop, since he was always sitting there.  
  
When he had finished tying the beautiful bouquet of pink roses, antirrhinum and leaf green, he carefully placed it on his lap and rolled to the shop window, where he put it in a vase of fresh water and looked out the window, smiling. It was a rainy day, but somehow Alan liked it. He was wearing a fluffy light blue jumper and this kept him nice and warm.  
  
It was raining outside and the leaves that once hung on the trees were already falling. The temperatures got colder. Alan liked to see spring, but also winter, because it was always very cosy in winter, and then he always drank tea on the couch with Grell, and they watched Christmas films.  
  
The brown-haired was very romantic, if you would ask Grell anyway. He was a poet and was not only good with flowers, but also with words, at least on paper, not much came from the mouth of the smaller one, but as long as he was known, the more talkative and open he became. He was a good storyteller and his choice of words was 'educated' now and then, as his roommate always called it. Although she also read a lot, she was able to freak out quickly and then insulted everyone with swear words that each parent really did not want to explain to her child afterwards.  
  
It was going to be a quiet day today, Alan already knew that. But the radio kept him company, the hits of the week were on, Alan hummed with some songs, but with others he only waited for the song to change. He had a very special taste in music, but liked relaxing music and hip-hop as well as jazz, because you could read or do other things with them.  
  
Humming softly, he rolled around the shop and took what he needed for the next order, a mourning bouquet. This contains roses, some grain, heather, felt cord, panic and various accessories. A wonderful last greeting to a dear person who meant something like _''Without love I'm lonely''_. Everything was beautiful red and Alan wondered who had ordered this bouquet.  
  
He carefully made the bouquet. He carefully wrapped red heather and smiled gently. Since visiting the tattoo studio, whenever he saw the heather he thought of the blond Scotsman who the shop owner had seen and who had stung the motif.  
  
The blonde man had just been so cute, but their encounter would only be one-time, after all, Alan wasn't planning to get another tattoo. One was enough for him, and he was overjoyed to be able to fulfil a wish. Nevertheless, he missed the man's handsome smile as much as that beautiful smell he wore. It was immediately clear to the brown-haired that Eric Alan's type was immediately apparent. A tall but gentle man who could protect you when it mattered.  
  
He carefully attached the grain to the accessories and smiled gently, but also worried. After all, he was dealing with mourners, hoping that it was not a funeral, but an anniversary or so that the person had with the deceased. Although that was worse if Al kept thinking.  
  
Time passed and Alan cleaned up a bit as he sang along with the songs on the radio and looked around. There were flowers everywhere and the rain was getting stronger, luckily he had an umbrella holder on his wheelchair, so the way home would work. He knew exactly which bus to take, although it was a little difficult because the bus driver would lower a ramp for him and the brown-haired would feel disadvantaged. Sometimes passers-by helped him, and he thanked them several times, but it was charm that came up to him.  
  
When the door opened and the little bell rang, he looked up and looked at the clock. Soon he was finished, there was really little going on today. Only nine customers so far and two other people who were just looking around.  
  
"I'm coming!" exclaimed the brown-haired man, and rolled out of the study next to the counter, stopping when he looked up and saw the man's face. That smell, that gentle face with the little chin beard, the tattoos on the arms, the blonde hair that was tied to cornrows on one side.  
  
"Oh, hello Alan." Eric said quietly, looking at him as the brown-haired man turned red and looked at him, then smiled carefully.  
  
"H-Heeey.." Alan said, just looking at him for a moment.  
  
Eric cleared his throat. "Sae a'm 'ere tae pick up th' mourning bouquet ah ordered..i heard that th' flower shop 'ere sells th' best roses in toun, sae ah ordered it 'ere 'n' nae elsewhere..." he explained.  
  
Oh, for Eric it was the funeral bouquet with red roses, and also red Erikas.maybe someone in his family had died, but he had said that they lived in Scotland and the brown-haired was now considering, but he nodded gently and rolled his wheelchair carefully back into the back of the shop around the already packed funeral bouquet pick up.  
it was wrapped in equally red paper. He put it carefully on the table and looked at the blonde ..  
  
"Thank you..did ye tie that yerself?" he asked gently as he lifted the paper up a bit to see the brown-haired man's work.  
  
Alan just nodded. "Yes I have made it myself.."  
  
"That is pure nice..my Romeo wid hae liked it..well, he didnae think muckle o' flowers bit he liked th' color red.." he said shortly after which Alan nodded.  
  
"Erika stands for loneliness and roses for strong love, so the meaning of the bouquet is something like _''Without love I'm lonely''_.." explained the brown-haired florist and then looked at the blonde, who was soaking wet from the rain and saw literally like wet poodle. He got him a towel with which the blonde man thankfully dried himself and looked at him.  
  
"That's a crakin' meaning.." the blonde smiled, smiling.  
  
"What did he die of, if I may ask?" Alan asked and looked into the tattooist's eyes.  
  
"Cancer...a brain tumor...stage 4...final stage.." Eric swallowed. "Th'morra we would be ten years th'gither..He wis th' best thing that ever happened tae me."  
  
Alan nodded in concern. "I think it's nice that you still think of him...some don't care after the death of a loved one.." said the florist and Eric only nodded gently.  
  
"Ayee..i'm finally ower him noo.." through therapy, he had managed to get over the death of his lover and was currently looking for the right person.  
  
He nodded. "That's nice.." murmured the wheelchair user and didn't notice that this sentence could be understood differently.  
  
But Eric didn't notice either, because he grinned. "Kin ah stay 'ere 'til th' smirr haes stopped? th'day a'm free sae..."  
  
The brown-haired nodded gently. "Of course no problem.."  
  
"Howfur long hae ye bin workin' 'ere?" Eric then looked around.  
  
"Two years..." Alan replied gently. "You had to do some modifications here for me..but everything is going well..haha.." he scratched the back of his head and laughed a little nervously, as did Eric, who smiled carefully.  
  
"When does th' shop claise here?" the Scot looked at everything.  
  
"I can go in half an hour. I have to clean and count the money." he explained.  
  
"Should Ah help yer?" Eric replied immediately. The brown-haired man only shook his head.  
  
"No, that's not necessary..." Alan just said, doing his job while Eric just looked at him.  
  
"Ayee..." he just looked at him and sighed after a few minutes. "Sae howfur wis yer day? Urr ye okay?" the blond man asked gently.  
  
Alan nodded gently and entered the earnings in a book. "Everything is okay..."  
  
As long as Eric was there, everything was fine.


	5. Chapter 5

When the brown-haired man was finished, Eric helped him lock the shop and attached the umbrella to Alan's wheelchair, he didn't take one himself, it wasn't bad, at least Alan stayed dry and comfortable, Eric wasn't as important as the brown-haired man. Even the smallest cold could leave him sick in bed for weeks, Grell knew that enough.  
  
Eric pushed the wheelchair carefully and looked around while Alan was worried and wanted Eric to take an umbrella and protect himself from the rippling rain that pelted the streets and the pavement in front of them. He didn't want him to get sick, but Eric kept saying that he had no needs, had a strong immune system. Alan could only wish for this, he had a very weak one, unfortunately. Due to his illnesses, his immune system was weaker than that of Eric, for example, who looked around.  
  
"Bus line 4?" the man asked the brown-haired florist, who nodded and looked at him briefly.  
  
"Yes..." he just murmured and sighed softly. "You really don't have to take me home Eric. I can do it on my own, I just ask someone if they can help me on the bus and then back out. "  
  
"Bit ah wull accompany ye home." the blond Scot with the cornrows decided, was really stubborn, but a sweet one.  
  
Alan blushed a little "Thank you, but this really is not necessary.."  
  
"Besides, a'm waantin' tae get tae know yer cats al..." he just said and pushed the wheelchair on, the bus would be there in fifteen minutes, so they didn't have to hurry. The blonde man talked about his work and Alan listened to him, giving questions or an answer now and then.  
  
"Tell me, urr ye single?" The scot asked then briefly and looked into the eyes of the brown-haired man, whose cheeks blushed, and he then shyly looked at his head.  
  
"Yes...to be honest I've never had a relationship..." he admitted quietly.  
  
He just nodded and pushed the brown-haired one on. "Good tae know.." he said softly, looked at him softly. "Urr ye hungry, Alan?"  
  
"No, I'm making lunch at home..." the wheelchair user looked at the man and then looked down at the floor. "Why are you doing all this for me?"  
  
"Because a'm waantin' tae mak' life a wee more bearable fur ye Alan...you hae experienced sae much 'n' most o' 'twas shit." he said, his voice sounded almost loving.  
  
The person addressed only nodded carefully and looked at him briefly, then looked straight again. Eric was really caring, but he would surely pretend to be someone like Alan after his fiancé's death, wouldn't he? He would surely not take care of another sick person and see him die slowly and painfully, feed him when he could not even raise his head and kiss him lovingly and calm him down when he was in pain.  
  
The two had only known each other for a short time, but it was faster for some homosexual couples than for others, at least he had read this in some gay novels, but unfortunately he didn't know what it was like in real life. Eric would surely not laugh at him and ask if he would love him too.  
  
The brown-haired man's heart did not calm down when the Scotsman stood with him and looked at the smaller man gently. Eric had had a nose piercing on closer inspection, because he had a small scar on his nose.  
  
Cool..Alan was a fan of piercings, although he didn't have any himself, but wished for some. Earrings would be good, but maybe an eyebrow piercing. He would think it over, he was sure of it.  
  
"A' guid?" after a while the blonde asked the brown-haired man, who was startled and then nodded and smiled.  
  
"Yes, everything is great...hehe..." he scratched the back of his head nervously, then looked at the incoming bus, there were two other people at the bus stop looking at the two men a bit funny, but Alan was interested very little about that, really did not care.  
  
Unlike Eric, who glared at the two passers-by and then carefully stroked his thumbs over Alan's cheek, which suddenly turned a little red, and he carefully smiled, then sneezed softly, which sounded really cute, which is why the blonde tattooist smiled softly.  
  
"Ow.." he murmured softly and looked at his new friend gently.  
  
The latter looked at the bus driver who lowered the wheelchair ramp. He rolled it up thanks, but he didn't have enough strength and Eric helped him by gently pushing the brown-haired one. Alan showed his disability card, he could drive for free, while Eric showed his annual pass with a smile.  
  
"Now we have to drive four stops, and then we have to go a little, then we are there.." Alan said to the blond Scotsman, who stopped and nodded.  
  
The brown-haired wheelchair user had a few glances that went up to him, but he didn't mind. After all, he didn't care, since graduating he'd decided to just ignore anyone who was staring at him or insulting him. He didn't need to get upset and cry, after all he was grown up and the people who stared at or insulted a disabled person were simply stupid or arrogant, they could be happy to be able to walk and live normally, unlike Alan.  
  
He often had to go to examinations and it was really very difficult for him. Because he needed an accompanying person and Grell could not always come with him, even if she liked to do it. Unfortunately she worked a few streets away, for example, if there was an emergency and Alan had to be picked up in the ambulance, she did not notice it. Only if someone called her and informed her, but then the brown-haired one was already in the emergency room and was treated.  
  
"Is Grell home awready or is she aye at wirk?" then asked the blonde with the cornrows the brown-haired one who just nodded.  
  
"Today she works until 6 p.m..." he only answered the question, Eric nodded.  
  
But then Al winced, a visibly drunk man walking towards the two men with a harsh voice that muttered something about 'cripple' towards the two friends. Alan swallowed, had already made some acquaintances with drunk people and had been hospitalized several times because of such experiences.  
  
Fortunately, Eric was there today, standing in front of the brown-haired one and looking at the man with a growl.  
  
"Wretched cripple!" the man slurred and Alan just looked silently at Eric, who growled dangerously like a snappy dog and pushed the man away a little.  
  
"Lea him alone or thay will be dealing wi' me!" Eric almost shouted and lifted the man by the collar.  
  
The old man was about his fifties and had a three-day beard and a hat. His coat looked old and dirty, probably a homeless person. Eric had also met some homeless people and some of them were really polite, but the others were not exactly friendly to him and wanted money to buy drugs. But of course not everyone was like that, some were really nice, and he often talked to them.  
  
"He's a cripple, he has to braise in hell!" he continued to slam.  
  
"Aye, aye, grandpa, ye mist dae that an' a' soon..." Eric carefully pushed the man back when he came up to him. This swayed briefly and then held on to the stage. Eric looked at him coldly while the other passers-by on the bus did not notice it or ignored it, after all, it was none of their business.  
  
"I'm a Christian! Not a freak like that!" he snapped while Alan just picked up the silver chain he was wearing under his white shirt.  
  
A silver cross was recognizable, he was also Christian, although he doesn't believe in God so much, but he had received this chain from his grandmother and wore it as a reminder. He had always gone to church with his parents as a child, but he had never really understood the faith. Why are there sick people when God could heal them? Why was there violence and death? Why was there hunger and need when God could destroy it?  
  
But Alan really didn't want to think about it further, only Eric looked at him briefly with shining eyes. The Scotsman had grown up Christian as well as the brown-haired one, only he still believes in God, questioned the questions that Alan often did not ask himself, but he no longer went to church or prayed, only sometimes, very rarely.  
  
The last time he spoke to God was when his former fiancé was dying. He had been sitting at his bed holding his hand, a few hours after his prayer his Romeo had fallen asleep forever peacefully.  
  
He could no longer accompany Romeo on his journey, but he could probably do it with Alan, who was not terminally ill, but only chronically ill, although his illnesses could also lead to death.  
  
While the bus stopped and looked at Eric Alan gently, while the old man staggered out of the bus and then spoke to people who were waiting at the bus stop, and complained about the rainy weather.  
  
The brown-haired one giggled slightly and blushed when the Scotsman carefully brushed a strand of hair from his face and looked at the florist with a grin. At that moment the two eyes met and Alan's gleamed in a moment of silence before the bus started again.  
  
"Maybe we kin cook something th'gither at yer hame?" asked the blonde man and grinned gently while Alan only nodded briefly.  
  
"Sure..that would be really nice.." the man murmured and smiled briefly. "What do you like to eat?"  
  
"Mhm..there ur many things ah lik' tae eat...what dae ye lik' tae eat?"  
  
"Salad, pasta..sometimes meat but not very often .." Alan explained. His digestive system didn't work like that of healthy people, he had to be very careful about what and how much he ate. It couldn't be too much, but not too little either.  
  
"Okay..how aboot a pasta bake?" the blonde man asked the brown-haired .  
  
"That's a good idea!" Alan grinned broadly and nodded briefly. Making a pasta bake with Eric, it sounded absurd to some, but for the chronically ill man it was a real dream.  
  
When they got to their stop, the two got out. Of course the tattooist helped the florist again and smiled briefly, looking around. To be honest, he wanted to pick him up from work forever.


	6. Chapter 6

The two men finally came into the flat that Alan was sharing with the young transgender women. Eric put the brown-haired one he had carried up the stairs on the couch. He quickly fetched the wheelchair that was still standing in the apartment while Al blushed and waited for the blond man. After all, his crush had, yes, he had a crush on the Scottish tattoo artist on the way home and was now clearly aware of it, carried it. He wanted to kiss him or cuddle or maybe do both. But Eric certainly didn't love him, probably only felt sorry for him and wanted to help him just because he was handicapped.  
  
"Oh..why are all cute men just like that.." Alan sighed softly and then looked up with red cheeks as the blonde man with the folded wheelchair under his arm and put it off before closing the door.  
  
"Mhm? A' richt?" Eric asked gently while Cherie jumped onto the couch and purred against Alan, greeting him.  
  
"Yes..everything is good.." answered the young wheelchair user and lovingly stroked the back of his cat, who greeted the blonde by jumping on his back.  
  
Eric had to laugh and looked at the brown-haired man with a grin. "Whit's her name?"  
  
"This is Cherie..she is something like my therapy cat.." he smiled gently and hugged the cat who cuddled with its owner and then put its paws on his chest.  
  
"She's pure cute..." Eric admitted. "Bit nae as cute as ye.." he added quietly.  
  
"What?" he raised his head and looked into the other man's eyes.  
  
It also turned red. "N..nothing..okay. Shall ah tak' ye tae th' kitchen?" he asked the brown-haired.  
  
"No..I can go here..I just need the chair for the kitchen.." he explained to the Scottish man and stood up carefully while Eric gently supported him. He wanted to help him, didn't know if he was hurting the man, and so he touched him as if the smaller of the two was glass.  
  
And that fact somehow melted Alan's heart, after all, the one who was so in love was so sweet to him and helped him walk, was so gentle to him and kind. He then carefully lifted him to the chair at the kitchen table and smiled cautiously, telling Eric where everything was that they needed for the pasta bake. The man got everything on the shelves and put the ingredients on the table. Alan poured 200 millilitres of cream into a cup, put grated cheese in a small bowl, as well as sliced ham, while Eric opened two eggs and put a few pieces of butter on a plate.  
  
"Where's th' casserole dish?" Eric wanted to know while he put the eggs and the cream in a bowl and mixed them with a whisk. The brown-haired man pointed to the large closet that stood next to the refrigerator.  
  
"At the bottom, left." he said only with a smile, the blond man nodded and opened the cupboard to take it out .  
  
"Say, ur we actually mukkers noo?" Eric asked gently while rubbing butter on the baking dish and looking at Alan, who was putting the pasta in the boiling water.  
  
"Yes...I think so...what do you think?" he looked at him, most of all he wanted to have more than a friendship with the tattoo artist, but that would probably never happen. Eric had said that he was over the death of his fiancée at the time, but a heart heals with difficulty and what should a cripple like him do now change? - Exactly, nothing. He could only hope that the broken heart of the man would heal at some point and free up a new place for him to take up.  
  
"We ur friends..good friends.." he explained and blushed a little, he had secretly fallen in love with him too. He didn't mind that the florist was sick and could not walk properly, needed a wheelchair. If Alan too gave him his heart, he would accept it and protect and love him with everything he had and could muster. He would accompany him to the doctor and even close the tattoo studio if he was ill, take care of him lovingly so that Grell could find her love and be happy.  
  
"Yes..." Alan murmured and poured the finely chopped ham into the saucepan to mix with the noodles that were already ready and from which he had already poured the water, which he then stirred. He then looked briefly at the blond Scotsman, who met his gaze at exactly the same moment and then quickly back at the bowl, put the grated cheese in it and mixed everything, but left some cheese in the bowl so that it was on top layer could be distributed.  
  
Oh, why was love so unattainable and difficult? Alan just wanted a kiss, or a hug. Oh what, he wanted love from him, deep love, although sex would definitely hurt him if he only had it. but a slight play of Eric's fingers in his ass would work, at least he thinks so. Through his EDS he could hurt himself very much when spreading his legs, the hip could come out of its actual place or his knee could dislocate, and he really didn't want that, after all he already lived with enough pain in the day and it didn't need to be.  
  
Sighing, he stirred the noodles with the pieces of ham and then yawned briefly, the work had weakened him significantly, even if it wasn't exactly difficult for him. He was always slower but also more thorough than everyone else, even if it annoyed other people sometimes. But Alan was already used to it and coped well, at least in some situations, not in all, but he was able to do almost all activities alone, only sometimes with aids or slower than other people.  
  
The blond man then helped him and put some pasta in the baking dish, while Alan put the whisked eggs with the cream and the cheese over the pasta, all nicely even and thin. Eric smiled, cooking with Alan was really fun.  
  
When they had made a few layers, Alan put the remaining cheese on the top layer and Eric slipped the pasta bake into the oven, then looked at Alan with a smile. What would you do now? Maybe Alan would talk about flowers again, or he would talk to Eric about something. When did Grell come again? In a few hours, right? He still wanted to be alone with Alan, he really liked him and wanted to be alone with him.  
  
"Whit do we want to dae noo?" he took three plates from the table and smiled gently, laid the coffee table on which Aika greeted him. Rose sat on the big cat tree and looked at the strange man with big green eyes. Then she jumped to the floor and patted away on soft paws .  
  
"I don't know...um..." carefully, using his crutch, which had a floral pattern. He liked it very much, even if he could only use it at home. His wheelchair had small lights on the wheels that he could turn on in the dark. He also thought that was very cool.  
  
"Shuid ah hulp ye?" asked the Scotsman immediately when he saw how weak Alan was walking. His legs were trembling with pain, but his wheelchair was too big for the small apartment. Grell and he slept in a bed, which was sometimes really annoying, but he had got used to it and liked the warmth that came from his best friend. Alan always went to bed a little later because he still had to take some medication in the evening and these at intervals.  
  
Alan usually spent his evening reading books or watching TV, sometimes falling asleep on the couch and being woken up punctually the next morning by Cherie, who snuggled up to him and licked his face. Then he always woke up and cuddled with his cat while Grell made breakfast and then helped him wash and get dressed. He couldn't even do that alone, although it used to be a matter of course. He had apologized to Grell a few times crying because she had to help him with everyday activities.  
  
His gaze lay briefly on Eric, and then he sat carefully and slowly on the couch, Cherie jumped on the couch and made himself comfortable on his lap, the man stroked the back of the British Shorthair cat and smiled softly. If Cherie weren't here, his health would probably be worse of than it is now. She had saved him a few times from another hospital stay, and the fact that she knew when her owner was in pain, she immediately noticed and pressed herself against him.  
  
When Grell was not there she tried to calm him down and when she was there she went to the redhead and the young woman often knew what was going on. Alan was very grateful for this and treated his favourite cat like a queen. Cherie was so smart and intelligent, just the best cat you could ask for.  
  
"Yer cat pure loves ye, richt?" Eric sat down next to the brown-haired man who only nodded with red cheeks .  
  
"Yeah..she's really smart..and so beautiful.." the brown-haired man muttered while the British Shorthair cat carefully pressed against him and started to purr. "She is the best thing that ever happened to me.."  
  
"I see.." said the blond man gently and sat next to him. "British Shorthair, isnae it?"  
  
Alan nodded and leaned back slightly as Eric gently stroked the animal's fur. Then the front door opened and Rose and Aika looked up, they had made themselves comfortable on the cat tree again. The two jumped elegantly to the floor with a purr to greet their owner.  
  
"I'm here!" she called and took off her red coat, which she hung on the coat hooks. "Oh it smells good here ~ did you cook?" she took off her shoes and placed them side by side, then went into the living room and saw the two men sitting next to each other silently as she reached into her pocket with one hand and took out a book.  
  
"I brought you...new reading material..." she said quietly. "Hi Eric, what are you doing here?" she smirked slightly and then raised an eyebrow as the blonde began to explain.  
  
"Sae ah picked up an order, 'n' since a'm free th'day, ah thought ah wold hulp Al 'n' tak' him home.." answered the Scotsman while Grell chuckled slightly.  
  
"Aha, just picked him up and brought here? Or did you do anything else?" Alan just blushed and shook his head.  
  
"No Grell, but we made pasta bakes." the young florist returned and then smiled gently, she just nodded, was a little amused, because if Eric were her crush, she would have been lying on him long ago.  
  
So Alan was calm and said nothing, even if he would tell her everything afterwards..


	7. Chapter 7

The next morning an ambulance was parked in front of the flat block. As Grell had said, she had called the ambulance and the brown-haired man was carried down by two paramedics and lay pale and weak on a daybed. Grell had stayed up all night trying to help Alan but his condition had deteriorated again and again. He had vomited several times and just wanted to see Eric. She had also informed him that he should come to the hospital because the brown-haired were not doing well.  
  
But the blonde tattoo artist was still asleep, was had a free day and therefore slept a little longer. But she knew that if he read the message, he would come, but now the blond Scot snored peacefully in his bed and enjoyed the warmth, sleepily listening to the rain pounding on his window.  
  
He didn't know what had happened and how Alan was doing, but he knew that he could no longer lie down and finally have to get up, after all he would be with Alan and Grell at home afterwards, well the young man believed that at least and throw the duvet on the Floor, then looked briefly at the ceiling and sat up sleepily after a few minutes, stretching slowly and yawning. Although he was still tired, he still had to get ready and have a little breakfast.  
  
When he stood in front of the mirror, he rubbed his messy blond hair and combed it briefly. His cornrows soon had to be remade, he thought, but he could still go out with them, they didn't look that bad. He took a quick shower after that and then put on a simple white shirt and some perfume, the same thing he used at the first meeting. Alan had liked it, at least he hoped, and it was also important to him that the brown-haired found that the smell is nice. After all, he would ask him today if he wanted to be with him, forever.  
  
He had already planned everything. Eric was going to talk to him, and he had got him a book about flowers, a brand-new one that was just being published and it was very unlikely that Alan would have it. He wanted to make the confession alone, without Grell or anyone else in the room. Without Cherie cuddling to Alan, even if the British Shorthair was really adorable and the artist really liked her.  
  
He had already packed the book in his backpack and it was at the door. He saw briefly at them, looking forward to seeing him again and talking to the chronically ill man. Then he went into the kitchen and picked up an apple, bit it the apple and looked at his cell phone, which was on the bedside table. As always, he charged the battery at night and didn't use his phone very often. After all, he had other things to do but if he had got the message earlier, because it was sent two hours ago.  
  
_'Come to the hospital as soon as possible. Alan is feeling bad, and he wants you with him.'_ She had text him and Eric didn't even think about it, just quickly put on his shoes and grabbed his leather jacket and his backpack while feeling fear and worry, but also love and affection that he felt for Alan.  
  
He ran down the stairs quickly and practised, he often trained and could run fast, so this wasn't a problem. The hospital was only a few blocks away, so this was a minor problem either. But he wanted to know if Alan could stand it. What if he was in a coma or in very severe pain? What if he needed surgery or if he wasn't allowed to see him? All these thoughts ran through his head as quickly as he took out the bowl for his motorcycle and quickly put on the helmet that he had strapped to his backpack on. Eric then put the key in and immediately the crackling of his motorcycle sounded, then he drove off with it.  
  
His motorcycle was pitch black, and he always liked to call it his 'darling'. He had saved a long time for this motorcycle and loved everything about it. The Scot wanted to save a little more for a car licence, but he would get it soon. The streets were rainy and wet but Eric was a professional with his motorcycle and could handle it fabulously. The tires run so fast that the raindrops could hear moving in the air and then hit the ground again, but very quietly.  
  
The motorcyclist already knew the way to the hospital because of Romeo, whom he had always placed behind him on the motorcycle. He still had his old helmet at home, lying on the bedside table next to a photo of his former lover, and a small candle that he lit now and then. He spoke to his former fiancée every day, just needed him in his life. But he also needed Alan because he was just his dream man.  
  
As he turned a curve he swallowed, taking this one a little too quickly and touching the ground with the tip of his foot, but he kept his balance and continued to race. In this gloomy autumn weather nobody wanted to be outside, except commuters and people on the way to work. He sat leaning slightly forward, looked around briefly and drove through a puddle, which is why a street cat, which was pitch black but with a white spot on its chest, shrank back and jumped slightly into the air. The blonde man didn't notice this and continued.  
  
He quickly found a parking space on the hospital premises, parked his motorcycle and put the key for it in his pocket, took off his helmet and strapped it onto his backpack. Then ran to register and wanted to know where a certain Alan Humphries was.  
  
What the brown-haired woman unfortunately didn't know about the registration, like her colleague, was that Alan was lying on the ward with an infusion and beeping devices. Grell sat at his bed and sighed and sent Eric the room number, then put her cell phone down and looked at Alan.  
  
"Grell..." he reached weakly for her hand. He had almost had a heart attack, at 21..  
  
But in the end it was only very severe cardiac arrhythmia, which the brown-haired had since last night and was therefore very weak. Alan got oxygen thanks to a device and looked at his best friend with slightly shiny eyes. He had often wished at these moments to fall asleep quietly and peacefully, but when he thought of Eric, the thought passed quickly.  
  
He would leave him alone, and he didn't want that. Alan thought of him, of his little goatee, his lovely voice, which sounded rough and scratchy to others, but for him the Scottish accent was just like melody in his ears.  
Alan imagined how the blond Scotsman held his hand, or how he gently and carefully touched his own lips. How they cuddled and caressed each other on a rainy evening like yesterday, and yes, even if Alan couldn't really do it, spoiled the other with fingers or tongues. The two could experience so much together, travel the world and look at the starry sky every evening, and even if this would not work due to the illnesses of the brown-haired one, one could still dream.  
  
"Eric.." the brown-haired mumbled softly, almost sounding like he was drunk, but the trigger was only the strong medication and pain reliever he was given. If you didn't know this, you could almost assume that Alan was at least a bit drunk. He reached for Grell's chin and then pushed it away. No, it wasn't Eric, Eric had a beard and had no red, long hair, or a rather feminine face and this high voice. The blond Scotsman wasn't with him, so he looked around .  
  
"Where's my Eric?" he wanted to know and groped for something with his arms, probably for the blonde who wasn't there. Didn't he want to come and visit him today? Why wasn't he there? Did he forget him or didn't he want to spend time with him any more? Tears pooled in the brown-haired eyes, and then he looked into Grell's eyes, which stroked his cheek carefully, and then carefully took his hand.  
  
"He'll be right there..rest a little, okay?" she asked softly and with a caring tone. Alan was almost like a brother to her, Grell had known him since kindergarten, which is why she knew almost everything about him. The red-haired woman had never had any friends other than Alan and the brown-haired woman had had no other acquaintances other than Grell. Everyone else has always avoided him because of his many days off and because he was sick, but the young woman never avoided her best friend.  
  
She had always brought him homework and helped him with it. They were simply inseparable, but times are changing and everyone will find their love, if Alan wanted to move in with Eric she would understand and help the two men. The two men were not yet together, but the woman didn't care, she knew when it was love between two people, had read many romances and understood gestures and looks quite well. Alan was in love with Eric and the blonde artist with Alan. It was clear to her.  
  
"Eric..." the thin man murmured and reached out his right hand, reaching for the air.  
  
"I go out and call Eric, right?" the librarian asked the brown-haired patient, who nodded.  
  
"Okay.." he coughed a little and then closed his eyes again.


	8. Chapter 8

A few days later, it was a rainy, calm Sunday and Grell and Alan were at home, the brown-haired noticed how his heart broke more and more. The heartache grew stronger and the fact that Eric had given him his phone number and was typing it made it worse. Eric always sent heart emojis and now the brown-haired one sat on the couch with red cheeks and stroked Cherie's fur as he considered what he wrote back.

Eric had sent him pictures of his home, his video of his cattle being kept with his family in Scotland. Besides, Alan already knew a lot more about the blonde man. Knew that he had his Cornrows made by a hairdresser nearby and what perfume he was using, he even knew his size and also the fact that he had unsubscribed from a dating site, why he was confused, but he believed in no case that the blonde had hopes. Maybe he had decided to live single, like Grell had given up searching for a perfect partner after her last date with a black-haired office worker.

She'd been asking about men in clubs and dating apps for a long time, but either the men and women Grell wasn't interested in were not her type, or she didn't accept them afterwards because of her birth sex and transition. Sighing, she sat down next to Alan and looked at him. The brown-haired leaned against his best friend, who had to smile.

"Did Eric text you?" she asked gently but also curiously, after all she wanted to help the brown-haired to love and wanted to know everything about him and Eric, really everything. No matter whether it was more private and embarrassing things. She was just a curious woman who always had the latest gossip in stock and could talk for hours, a miracle that she worked in a library where you always had to be quiet and quiet. But her thoughts were always louder than some people at work.

"Yes..." he murmured and closed his eyes. Cherie looked up and jumped off the cat tree, lay on his chest and snuggled up to him. Noticed that he had grief and worry.

"So what did he write?" the red-haired woman then wanted to know. But Alan just bit his lip.

"He wants to come to see me, but I don't know...I think he's only doing it because I'm disabled..." the brown-haired man murmured and then sighed quietly as he stroked the fluffy fur of his cat, which purred.

"No Alan, that's not true. Eric loves you, I know it. He takes care of you, not like me, but more lovingly and careful not to hurt you." The young woman said and stroked Aika's back, who sat next to the redhead and stretched, then carefully her body to the thigh the transgender woman. She smiled gently and looked at Alan. "Trust me..call him or write him to come here..I'll go to the library.."

"But I don't know if I.." he sighed softly. "What if he wants sex? What if he...what if I tip over or feel bad if he's kidding me? "Alan was clearly too worried because the blonde man was just a sweetheart and Grell knew that too, just shaking her head.

"He doesn't want sex, well I don't know, but he knows that you are chronically ill, you can just say that you can't have sex because of your EDS .." Grell said softly and smiled cautiously, she would do anything for her best friend to do.

"But...what if he lets me down then?" Then he just asked and looked into her eyes.

"Then my dear Alan, he's an asshole...this cattle..." the young woman muttered.

"Please don't insult him, Grell." he said and sat up, hugging the one who was looking at him. "What do you think, Cherie?"

The British shorthair only purred in response and briefly meowed loudly. Alan took this as "Give Eric a chance" and nodded gently, wrote a message to the blond man saying that they could meet tomorrow. Immediately the blonde tattooist was online and wrote him back, they set the time, and then they wrote a few hearts emojis and Eric even sent Alan a kiss emoji, which was why Alan blushed and the red-haired woman had to laugh.

"Oh Alan, you two are perfect for each other .." she said and giggled softly.

"Do you think?" the chronically ill man asked her and Grell just had to nod.

"Rule number one: I'm always right." the young woman murmured softly and cuddled Alan gently and carefully, always being aware not to hug him so tightly, because even if she was gentle with everyone, sometimes she couldn't really assess her strength.

Alan had to smile gently. "That's right...the golden rule of Grell Sutcliff.." he said with a grin and then looked at Rose, who made herself comfortable next to Aika and had a nap.

The red haired lady then looked at her brown-haired best friend. "And? What do you want to do with him?~"

"I know you're thinking ambiguously..I'm not going to go into anything.." he said firmly.

"Oh, if he wags his dick, you're the one who sucks it anyway.." she said and crossed her arms, even if this was just a joke. Of course, she knew about the caution of the young florist, who wasn't exactly passionate about sex. To be honest, he thought it was nice, but only with Eric.

"Grell!" he poked her side with a grim look and then blushed slightly.

She laughed softly. "It was just fun sweetie!" she looked him in the eye. "But if you want his cock in your mouth..I can still ask him if that's okay.."

"Woe! If you do that..." Alan's eyes were angry, downright angry, while Grell just sighed.

"You don't understand fun either.." the young librarian murmured while the chronically ill man thought of Eric. The blond hair and his calm but rough voice, which sounded so loving when it said Alan's name.

"You really love him don't you?" Grell wanted to know curiously, apparently only expected a positive answer, because the grin on her face just said it all. She wanted to couple them up.

"Grell...I'm so in love...so much..." He became even redder than he already was and looked out of the window, the rain was heavy and there was also a thunderstorm. The brown-haired was afraid of thunderstorms and trembled slightly, suddenly felt his heart pound against his ribs as if it wanted to come out. The breathing became harder and he started to sweat. Cardiac arrhythmias were nothing new to him, he often had them, but each time he had pain in the heart and this really hurt him.

"All good?" Grell asked while Cherie looked at her silently to tell her that nothing was good, her owner was in pain!

The book lover understood and carefully helped Alan lie down, got up and squatted worriedly in front of the couch, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "Where does it hurt?" then she asked him.

"Chest.." the brown-haired closed his eyes. "It's gonna be alright..just five minutes.." he said quietly and hugged his British Shorthair cat, who was hugging him again while Aika was playing with Rose in the background.

"Should I call an ambulance?" She asked worriedly and Alan only shook her head.

"No..I'll be right back to normal.." he tried to control his breathing and held on to his cat, who closed her eyes and started purring. And Alan was right, after a few minutes he was a little better, but he was tired from the pain, and quietly fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Grell stayed on his side, smiled softly as she put a blanket over him and then sat on the couch and took the book, which she was reading. The red-haired woman was busy reading while Alan was snoring peacefully.

"Mhm..Eric..no.." he mumbled in his sleep and briefly tensed, then coughed and opened his eyes weakly. "Eric..."

"Eric is not here Alan..." the red-haired murmured softly and got him drops of pain, these actually always helped, in most cases. If not then she would call an ambulance, she had already decided that.

The red-haired woman carefully shoved the medicine spoon into his mouth. The florist grimaced and swallowed it, knowing that it would help him at best, but at worst he would have to go back to the emergency room.

"Mhm..I know.." he murmured and pressed his cat closer to him, her fur smelled so good, she was so fluffy and nice. Just the best cat he could ask for. Aika meowed and looked around, jumping on the scratching post while Rose did it and Grell sat briefly with the two.

Then the redhead put a hand on Alan's forehead. "You have a fever Alan.." Grell said concerned, then checked his pulse. "I'm calling an ambulance, right?" she asked him and then took her cell phone, wanted to call 911.

"No..." he pushed the phone away. "We already had that..a few times...everything is fine.."

"Al.." she sighed softly and stood up.


	9. Chapter 9

The red-haired woman scolded herself softly as she ran down the hospital station with clacking heels and tried to call Eric, but either he didn't answer or his cell phone was off, Grell valued the second option, given the blonde tattoo artist concern, but felt somehow that he was here. Somewhere in this hospital the man with the little goatee was running around. When she turned into the stairwell, a young woman came to meet her, who was probably from the emergency room, but she ignored the black-haired and ran on. She had to find Eric.

Soon her heart began to beat with adrenaline and made her breathe faster, her steps became faster and faster, the woman was sporty, even if she did little for it. Because the young woman preferred to sit on her sofa with a cup of coffee, Aika on her lap and with a good book in her hands. She used to take a lot of care of her body, but now it wasn't. Since she had her breast implants and was waiting for the last operation to be confirmed, she looked bad, didn't sleep much, and the food was hard to eat. She lost more and more and you could count the ribs on her already very thin body.

Alan also said she should eat more and her psychologist said the same thing. But it's easier to say it then do it. She wrote all the calories she was taking in a notebook and only drank water or coffee. It had been going on for a few months, almost half a year. Alan was worried about her and had threatened to tell her psychologists everything, and then she would be taken to a day clinic or psychiatric clinic, and she really didn't want that again. 

Some people were sitting in the emergency room, others were lying in the corridor on couches. A man had already vomited on the floor...how disgusting, but the librarian looked around and smiled when he saw the blond Scotsman with the cornrows, who was discussing the registration with a woman.

"What? ye wirk 'ere! how come dinnae ye ken where he is!?" the Scotsman growled angrily.

"Because I've only been on the shift for half an hour!" the blonde woman said only, wanted to say something else, but was interrupted by Grell, who shouted the name of the tattoo artist.

"Eric!" she went to him and immediately pulled his arm with her. The blond man looked at Grell — she was here, so Alan had to be somewhere here too.

"Where is he?!" he asked immediately and ran next to her, quickly opened the door and let her through it first.

"Gentleman.." she said with a brief smile and then ran up the stairs, Eric did the same and trembled slightly.

"How's Alan doin?!" he asked her, almost screaming.

"His condition is stable, but he's getting worse and worse, he almost had a heart attack." she said quickly and then opened the door for Eric.

The latter ran through them and stopped, looking around quietly. "Where's Alan?"

"Come on..." she pulled him behind her to the brown-haired man's room, but the room was empty of them. The hospital bed was messy and the blanket was down. It was a picture that was disturbing, would always be remembered by the two young people standing there. It was a shocking, scary moment. He didn't know where Alan was, what had happened when Grell was looking for him.

"Al.." the redhead mumbled and looked out into the hallway, then went to look for a nurse while Eric stood petrified and swallowed. His Alan..where was he? His eyes fell silently to Grell, who was talking to the nurse. He didn't hear the conversation, but the red-haired woman looked shocked. She was very worried and then went back to the blonde.

"He's going to have an operation..." the redhead murmured, looking at the slightly larger one. She had tears in her eyes and was pale.

"..Where..?"

"H-heart..." she bit her lower lip and then sat down on one of the two chairs that stood side by side in the room. Sighing, she leaned back while the Scotsman quietly sat next to her and looked down at the floor.

"Alan is strong..he'll mak’ it.." said the man with the rough voice in the Scottish accent, but he didn't really know. Rather, he hoped his crush would get through. "What exactly does he have?"

"He will have a cardiac catheter.." she said. "Al already had an irregular heartbeat yesterday, he didn't want to go to the hospital at first. He groaned in pain all night while sleeping..He said your name, wanted to see you...I should have text you the room number..."

"It's nae yer fault Grell..." Eric said only, looking at her. "Ah should've asked.."

After a few minutes of silence, the redhead cleared her throat. "You love Alan, don't you?" she asked with a smile.

The Scottish tattooist just nodded. She would understand his feelings. "Do ye think...do ye think he loves me as much as ah love him?"

She smirked slightly as she thought of the brown-haired man who had raved about his Eric. "He loves you, he told me. Alan was already in love with you after the appointment in the studio."

The blond Scots cheeks took on a slight shade of red. "Really..?"

"Yeah...he talked about you all day yesterday and whispered your name in his sleep.." she said approvingly.

Eric just nodded and closed his eyes. "Ah love him more..already aftr th' appointment..I could ainlie think o' him 'n' a'maist messed up th' tattoo of the guy wha cam after alan...just thought o' him..."

"I bet you jerk of after the visit, right?" asked the redhead with a rather dirty grin. Even if she didn't look that way, her thoughts were either about books, her best friend and his new love, or about sex. The latter very often lately.

"Nyaa...that's a...more personal thing.." the blond man said quietly. His whole face turned a little red, which made Grell laugh.

"Ah, I see..but you know that sex with Alan doesn't work like others, because of his condition..." said the librarian and just looked at the blonde. Her eyes were worried, but also she already thought that Alan finally had a boyfriend, well it wasn't official yet and the admission of love would do Eric when the florist was back in the room, but it was clear to Grell that they would be together. She hoped forever.

Eric nodded."I'm nae out fur throwing a sausage up a close anyway...if he doesn't want...T aye hae mah hand.." he said and smiled gently, a bit dirty while Grell had to laugh.

The chemistry between the two people was good, they could be good friends.

"Okay na, noo honestly. Ah dinnae care as long as he stays loyal 'n' loves me a maiter o ah loue him.." said Eric. "Do ah hae tae dae keep awa' anythin' fae wi' him? Allergies, or something he cannae do..?"

"He’s not allowed to carry heavy things, because of the EDS..never handle him roughly, okay you won't do that anyway...nonetheless. His plants and flowers are his sanctuary, never touch or move them. Because if you do that, he'll get angry, but not very much. And you don't want to experience that. sometimes he has nervous breakdowns and will cry on your chest, then always hug him and talk to him. Oh and Cherie, when she comes to you, there's something about Alan. She is always with him, no matter if day or night” she explained slowly and looked at the bigger man.

"Okay...anything else?"

"Mhm..let me think it..he doesn't like thunderstorms, then he's always afraid. Just like in confined spaces, which is why he avoids elevators. So the best thing to do is carry him up the stairs. No matter where he is also afraid of horror films, but he likes documentaries or animals. He loves books and poetry…" explained the young woman.

"Okay..i bought him a book...about flowers...do ye think he'll lik' it?" he asked gently and gave her a quick look, then took out the book and showed it to her.

"He doesn't have that yet...as I know...it's a new book, isn't it?" she wanted to know about the blond man, who just nodded.

"Yes...I ordered it for Al shortly after th’ appointment.." he just said.

"He will surely like it..." she said smiling, the blond man just nodded.

"Now a' we hae tae dae is wait..." the Scotsman only sighed and looked briefly out of the window, then back at the floor. He then put his palms together and began to pray that Alan would make it. It was just a cardiac catheter, but he was terrified for it.

"Are you praying there?" Grell asked with a sigh while the blonde stopped responding and nodded after a few minutes.

"Yeah....I only dae that if something ill happens...the last time mah ex passed away.." he mumbled and winced as the woman's hand carefully stroked his back.

"Alan will survive...he has had a cardiac catheter several times..." she said only. She had been with him at each of these, held his hand, and calmed him. After the operation, she had nursed him up and looked after him.

And she would pass this task on to Eric.


	10. Chapter 10

When the brown-haired florist's eyes opened, he saw only a large silhouette, a fairly fragrant man with a rough voice and a distinctive, calm Scottish accent. Eric was there...

The man's mouth opened, but then closed again without saying anything. He just looked at him with big, shiny eyes and trembling fingers that grab the older man's hand. He had really come here to him, as Grell had promised. Eric hadn't let him down like the others. The blonde was sitting at his bed with a worried smile, holding his hand, while in the background you could only hear the snoring of the red-haired woman who had made herself comfortable on the chair, sleeping peacefully.

When Alan was pushed into the room she immediately woke Eric up, and then he took care of him while the librarian was dozing off. The blond Scotsman had held Alan's hand all the time and looked at him gently, he was just so beautiful..

This brown, short hair that fell over the narrow, somewhat pale face and that flattered. This calm but also cute smile that he had in his sleep, as well as this thin, slim body that Eric only dared to handle with caution, after all he was afraid that he could hurt him..

So Eric was a little worried, stroking his cheek and smiled.

"Hey.." he murmured softly. "How dae yer feelin?"

He looked at him quietly, gave his hand a brief squeeze, and smiled. "Good .." he only scratched. "It's just like heaven...you’re here..."

"Urr ye thirsty?" the Scotsman asked the sick man immediately when he heard the scratching of the otherwise calm and gentle voice.

"Mhm..." he just nodded and watched Eric pour some water into a glass and then take a straw. Then he helped Alan sit up a little and shoved the straw into his mouth.

After the brown-haired man took a few sips, he looked at him gently, thanked him quietly, and then leaned back again. "I'm sorry..." 

Eric just looked into his eyes, really didn't know why the brown-haired apologized to him, he hadn't done anything bad. "Al..why are ye sorry..?"

A sigh, Al squeezed the hand of the tattoo artist a little harder, then began to explain with trembling lips and tears in his eyes that were full of emotion and love for Eric.

"Forgive me for falling in love with you..but please...please...stay with me..." he muttered at the beginning and then kept talking. "I know you probably don't want to spend your life with a cripple like me, but if I don't say it now, then..." he swallowed, shining tears in his eyes that flowed down his pink cheeks. "You are just so...so wonderful and..and h-hot.." he said and blushed only more. "You're so darn cute Eric.."

The one addressed just stared into the other's eyes and Eric's cheeks also blushed. Alan loved him too...wow. To be honest he never expected this...he never thought that the sick man would confess his love to him.

"Hey..." he kissed his forehead and looked at him lovingly. "Alan..Ah love ye tae .."

"Really?" he asked him with big eyes and red cheeks, he looked like a tomato while Eric smiled nodding, yes, he loved the brown-haired one too. He had been in love from the first moment her eyes met.

"Ah love ye.." he hugged him gently and carefully, then looked back at him with a smile while the red-haired one woke up and saw at them briefly, then left the room, wanting to leave the two lovebirds alone, was happy for Alan, even if she was also a bit jealous. The two men had more than deserved a calm and happy relationship with a lot of love and cuddles, Alan had deserved someone like Eric who protected him and loved him more than anything. No matter how seriously ill the brown-haired was.

"I love you more.." He squeezed his hand a little, wanting to show that he really, really liked him by gently kissing the cheek, but at that moment Eric turned his head and the lips of the two touched.

Alan's lips were as soft as a feather pillow, while Eric's was a little rougher. The blond Scot cuddled with the brown-haired one, who had to smile peacefully. Alan was his dream man, he knew that immediately. And even if he had lost a love in his life, the brown-haired would never leave him.

He completely accepted that Alan was chronically ill, after all, the smaller florist couldn't help it and needed support in everyday life, which Eric could give him. He had always helped Romeo and made sure that he felt like everyone else despite his cancer...Alan didn't have cancer, but the tattooist would still make the young man feel like everyone else, help him when he needed help, and most importantly, be loyal to him.

"Do you really want that..?" Alan mumbled questioningly and looked at the blonde. "You know I'm a cripple...but.."

"Don't say something lik' this tae Al..." said Eric, suddenly a little strict and still worried. "Yer nae a cripple...you ur a human being...like a' body else. Yer disability does nae say that yer better or worse than other healthy people yer ye 'n' that's a' that matters...I accept ye th' wey ye are..Grell does it tae 'n' whoever doesn't is bonny stupid. " 

Eric was right..somehow. Other opinions about him were not important as long as he was happy and confident with himself. Well, Alan was never happy with himself, but for Eric he would try to change that.

"Okay..." the other just replied and then yawned briefly. "What happened...?"

"Ye had a heart catheter Alan..and ye a'maist hud a heart attack...but in th' end 'twas just severe cardiac arrhythmias" Eric kissed his forehead. "Grell told me..."

"Where is she..?" Alan looked at the empty chair on which the red-haired woman's coat lay. But Grell wasn't there..

"Mhm?" Eric followed his gaze. "Mibbie she'll git something...or wanted tae leave us alon'.." he murmured gently and didn't let go of Alan's hand.

"Okay.." Alan just said and just looked at the blonde, who smiled and kissed him gently again, and of course the brown-haired man was only too happy to return and put his thin arms around Eric's neck. The blonde man was so warm and smelled of this beautiful perfume like the last time they met.

"Mhm.." Alan then blushed as his stomach growled.

"Shuid ah git ye something tae eat?" he asked gently, looking at Alan questioningly.

"Yes..please.." the brown-haired man murmured and looked at him full of love.

"Whit dae you want?"

"Mmm...noodles..." he murmured softly and smiled, that was his favourite food. His body couldn’t digest some, but he could always eat and enjoy pasta.

Eric nodded and got up, then walked out of the room, down the hallways of the hospital and then to the cafeteria, got the brown-haired man the meal he wanted, and he met Grell, who sat alone at a table.

"Grell?" he asked softly and went to the table, the redhead looked up and smiled softly.

"Hey.." she said softly while Eric looked at her, she understood immediately. "I wanted to leave you two alone..." she said, the Scot just nodded.

"Thank yer..."

"So, Alan is cute, isn't it?" she asked him. "I told you already.."

"He's so cute.." he said with red cheeks and looked at her a little dreamily. "Ah will get Alan something tae eat.." he said then. "..would ye lik' something too?" 

Grell just shook her head. "I'm going to go home now...you take care of Alan, right?" she hugged him quickly, the blonde with the cornrows just nodded and watched her go outside, and then he got the food, smiling gently all the time knowing that this love would hopefully never end. The blonde knew that this love would last forever, he hoped at least.

When Eric went back to the brown-haired man's room with the tray and knocked on the door, the voice of Alan, who only said 'come in', was heard. Grinning, the tattoo artist opened the door and looked at him lovingly, the two were just made for each other. Eric put the tray down on the bedside table and opened the lid over the food.

Immediately it smelled of tomato sauce and spaghetti, wonderful for Alan. He just loved this food and sat up carefully, which he wasn’t allowed to do because of his scar from the cardiac catheter. The blonde helped him sit down and smiled cautiously, helped him sit comfortably and smiled gently, then kissed him briefly.

"Shuid ah help ye eat?" asked the blonde gently, the brown-haired one turned red.

"I'm not a baby...you don't have to feed me..." he said with red cheeks, really didn't want Eric to mother him and treat him like a little child.

"Ye'r nae allowed to move much...please.." he looked at him worriedly and then the young florist just nodded.

"Okay..." he said and closed his eyes briefly, God he was happy, the blonde motorcyclist then began to carefully feed the smaller one. He looked at him with loving gaze all the time, the brown-haired one ate slowly, of course he enjoyed it somehow, but Alan found it also a little embarrassing, he blushed more.

"Ow...ye dinnae need tae blush Al..." he stroked his cheek, which was why Alan just got redder. The chronically ill man had never thought that he would find someone like Eric, someone who would protect and love him with everything he had.

"You're really cute..." he said carefully and looked away, the man pushed his chin carefully with his hand and looked him in the eyes, then kissed him with full love and closed his eyes while the young man replied and leaned gently against him. Eric put the fork down and cuddled carefully with him, giving him love.

"Yer tae..." he murmured and looked at him. "A loue ye..."

The blonde man nodded with a smile and took the smaller man's hand with his own. "I love you too...more than anything else.."

The man looked out of the window, it wasn't raining as hard as before, but rain was something beautiful and soothing to him as long as it wasn't a thunderstorm he was terrified of. The sound of the rain drops made him close his eyes and grinned at his friend with a peaceful grin.

"Yer tired, aren't ye?" the blond Scot with the cornrows wanted to know, Alan only nodded briefly, snuggled up to the strong man and then fell asleep quietly.

And of course the other stayed with him, quietly looking down at the skinny body, and occasionally watching the beeping medical devices to which the brown-haired man was plugged onto. He ran his thumbs over the back of the smaller man's hand.

He would always protect him, because he wanted to see that sweet smile that the brown-haired one gave him every day. 

A few months later the two moved in together, and the brown-haired man also got another tattoo, a small infinity symbol, which also Eric got to make it a partner tattoo.

And now they had sealed their love with ink.


End file.
